Though my vows I can pour, To my Mary no more, [3] My Mary, to Love once so dear, In the shade of her bow'r, I remember the hour, She rewarded those vows with a _Tear_. 9. By another possest, May she live ever blest! Her name still my heart must revere: With a sigh I resign, What I once thought was mine, And forgive her deceit with a _Tear_. 10. Ye friends of my heart, Ere from you I depart, This hope to my breast is most near: If again we shall meet, In this rural retreat, May we _meet_, as we _part_, with a _Tear_. 11. When my soul wings her flight To the regions of night, And my corse shall recline on its bier; [ii] As ye pass by the tomb, Where my ashes consume, Oh! moisten their dust with a _Tear_. 12. May no marble bestow The splendour of woe, Which the children of Vanity rear; No fiction of fame Shall blazon my name, All I ask, all I wish, is a _Tear_. October 26, 1806. [iii] [Footnote 1: The motto was prefixed in 'Hours of Idleness'.] [Footnote 2: Harrow.] [Footnote 3: Miss Chaworth was married in 1805.] [Footnote i: _When with high-bounding pride, He returns_----. [4to]] [Footnote ii: _And my body shall sleep on its bier_. [4to. _P. on V. Occasions_.]] [Footnote iii: BYRON, October 26, 1806. [4to]] REPLY TO SOME VERSES OF J. M. B. PIGOT, ESQ., ON THE CRUELTY OF HIS MISTRESS. [1] 1. Why, Pigot, complain Of this damsel's disdain, Why thus in despair do you fret? For months you may try, Yet, believe me, a _sigh_ [i] Will never obtain a _coquette_. 2. Would you teach her to love? For a time seem to rove; At first she may _frown_ in a _pet;_ But leave her awhile, She shortly will smile, And then you may _kiss_ your _coquette_. 3. For such are the airs Of these fanciful fairs, They think all our _homage_ a _debt_: Yet a partial neglect [ii] Soon takes an effect, And humbles the proudest _coquette_. 4. Dissemble your pain, And lengthen your chain, And seem her _hauteur_ to _regret;_ [iii] If again you shall sigh, She no more will deny, That _yours_ is the rosy _coquette_. 5. If still, from false pride, [iv] Your pangs she deride, This whimsical virgin forget; Some _other_ admire, Who will _melt_ with your _fire_, And laugh at the _little coquette_. 6. For _me_, I adore Some _twenty_ or more, And love them most dearly; but yet, Though my heart they enthral, I'd abandon them all, Did they act like your blooming _coquette_. 7. No longer repine, Adopt this design, [v] And break through her slight-woven net! Away with despair, No longer forbear To fly from the captious _coquette_. 8.